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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055670">I promise i love you...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/larkofchaos/pseuds/larkofchaos'>larkofchaos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coming Out, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Glenn parent your kid challenge, Nick is a goth queen no questions, genderfluid Nick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:41:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/larkofchaos/pseuds/larkofchaos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick Close hadn't come out to their father as much of anything yet. Glenn knew for a fact that his child wasn't straight, but Nick thought he was blissfully unaware of his gender identity. Which is exactly why it's a horrifying moment when Glenn comes home early to find Nick on one of the "girl" days. The days where Nick could be taken as nothing but one kick-ass lady from the way they dressed. </p><p>Emotions run high as this messy coming out turns into them working through the underlying issue of Glenn's distance from his kid and reaffirming his unconditional love for said kid as the two sit in the floor and cry together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Glenn Close &amp; Nicolas Close</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I promise i love you...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nick Close had never been a very fantastic child. That much was very obvious. Granted, most of the dumb and illegal shit they did was for their fathers attention (however rarely that option actually worked), but it was still dumb and illegal shit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tonight was not one of those dumb and illegal nights, however; tonight was still a night Glenn Close could never find out about. Nick prayed he'd never find out about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nick had always been closed off from their father. How couldn't they be? When they were little, it was always Nick and Momma at home, while Daddy was on tour or doing shows. Glenn only started being home once in a while when Mom died. And yes, Nick calls him Glenn. Glenn was never... He was never 'Dad.'</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And this, this was certainly one of the things Nick kept tightly closed off from their father. That thing being one of the biggest secrets Nick may ever keep; their gender.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nick didn't *mind* to be a 'he,' don't get them wrong. Some days, they really enjoyed being a 'he.' But today? Today... Nick was a she. And she couldn't deny that. Some days she felt so fucking confident in her body, like she could throw on a baggy t-shirt and slightly too-big pants with a beanie and fight god. Others, her body felt like someone else's and she wanted to rip her skin off and start over. Dress like those beautiful alternative women she saw on TikTok. With the demonias, fishnets, skirts, ripped up shirts, messy hair. God, some days she didn't know if she wanted to be them, or be with them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tonight, she definitely wanted to be them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had done up her makeup in the most extravagant way she knew how, eyeliner to the gods. Fishnets under a faux-leather, checkered print pencil skirt she found thrifting with Grant a few days ago. She had one torn up old t-shirt she'd cut into a crop top and not to mention her Docs. She felt like she could fight god with her chain belts and dramatic jewelry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nick knows Glenn would never care if he knew his 'son' sometimes felt more like his daughter, but she wasn't ready to give him that kind of trust. Grant? Grant got that kind of trust. Henry got that kind of trust. The twins got that kind of trust. But not Glenn. Glenn hasn't proved he'd deserved that yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe Nick didn't want to take the time to explain why Grant sometimes called her Nickie beyond "It's just a nickname, Glenn."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she was okay with that. She knew that she wasn't ready. Maybe she'd never be 'ready,' and Glenn wasn't in her life enough for it to matter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why'd the front door just open? Why is Nick hearing a car lock? Why is the front door opening? Glenn's not supposed to be home from the tour until tomorrow. And here Nick is, in the living room. Looking like a pretty well passing woman. She had learned plenty of tricks over her last two years of presenting feminine some days. The lanky, stickman build he had was the one thing Glenn had given to her that she was thankful for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the genetics of Glenn Close that were gifted to his child were not the problem at hand. The problem at hand is that *Glenn's home.*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glenn's home. Glenn's home, and Nick is not in her Glenn Mode. She's vulnerable. Vulnerable to a lot of questions she doesn't want to answer tonight. Doesn't want to have to explain where all this women's clothing came from, nor why she's dressed as one. It can't pass as drag, but she's obviously not in drag makeup. Fuck. Fuck it all. Fuck her life and her shitty decision making skills. Fuck Glenn for never communicating his plans. And fuck the stunned way he's staring at her now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The awkwardness of the room was palpable at this point. Nick felt like a deer in headlights. Nick felt like melting into the floor and disappearing from the world. Nick felt like her whole world was about to collapse in on itself. What if Glenn hated her, what if he didn't want her to act like this or be this person, what if-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, don't you look nice. Got a date or something, kid?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That's... That's not what Glenn was supposed to say. That's not what he's supposed to say! He's supposed to be upset or revolted or-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I- I uh..." No. No, don't cry. Fuck. Why are you crying, Nicholas? Nicole? Fuck what even if your name right now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glenn's here. It should be Nicholas. That's your name when you're a boy. But it's a girl day. You want to be Nicole today. Glenn is here, and you're Nicole right now. And Glenn is here. And you're Nicole. And Glenn-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She heard a bag drop on the ground and footsteps come toward her. She stepped back and tried to hide behind her arms. No words. She can't speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She remembers the time she went to school in feminine clothes and a couple of guys almost jumped her, before Lark pulled a knife on them and got them both suspended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hands grab onto her shoulders, a gentle hold. She can feel the calluses on Glenn's fingers from his guitar. When was the last time he held her?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her knees feel like jello. She remembers when she started posting on her second TikTok, open about her gender and pronouns because she didn't have to keep up a cisgender face when her dad didn't have the account. And how transphobes sent her death threats until she blocked all those words from her comments and the DMs got disabled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She's a few inches taller than Glenn in her platform Docs. Which she realizes when he pulls her into a gentle hug. She feels makeup running on her face. And she's crying. Why is she crying?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She remembers being ten years old standing at moms grave, standing next to Glenn. Just after the burial. It was the first time she'd seen him cry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her chin's on his shoulder now, his arms around her upper torso and holding her against him. She realizes she's shaking. That he's just holding her. He's holding her. Daddy's home.. He's giving her a hug...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She remembers the last time Glenn had hugged her. At Mom's funeral. She was sobbing at her grave, and so was Dad. He pulled her into him and held her so tight. So tight she thought he'd crush her. But he just held, like she was the entire world. Like if he let go he'd loose her to. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hid her face in the mix of long hair and his suit jacket. He felt like her whole world in that moment, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nickie brings herself back to what's happening. Glenn's holding her, her arms are awkward resting on his back, He's clutching her by the shoulders. She remembers these hugs. The hugs that he used to give her every time he left and came home. The ones he gives where every second of it is imbued with love. It felt like that now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She could tell he loved her. But those words felt like lies in her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lies. Lies. Lies. So many lies. So so many lies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll be home by nine, Nick." It was a lie, Glenn didn't come home for three more days. "I promise I'll be home on your birthday." He wasn't. "I'll be there." He wasn't. "I'll make it, promise." He didn't. Everytime. Everytime, where Glenn should've been, it was Mom. And when Mom died, it was Henry. Or Ron. Or Darryl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he's here. Right now. And he's holding her. It doesn't make it okay, it doesn't excuse it. But he's holding her. Her knees go weak, and she crumbles. He crumbles with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sobs, he doesn't force her to say anything. She doesn't return his hug, he doesn't expect her to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're supposed to be mad." Nick mumbled after she didn't remember how long. Glenn gives a light chuckle and adjusts his grip on her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And why would I be?" He asked, not protesting as Nick shoved him off and shuffled back a few inches. It felt weird to be so close to him after sixteens years of so much distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why wouldn't you be?" She spat, crossing her arms and staring at the ground. "Nick's fucked up again. That's my whole brand! Being a total and absolute fuck up! The disappointment! The druggy, the- the... The mistake." She felt more hot tears behind her eyes. She could feel Glenn staring at her in concern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nick, you are not a fuck up. Or a mistake. Or whatever else. Nick, you're my baby, and I-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then why did you leave? If you're gonna pull that bullshit, and say you love me no matter what, and that I'm your little girl, and that- that you wanted me from the very beginning and wouldn't give me up, why did you leave? Why don't you care now? When you come home, and whoopsie! Your son's dressed up like some goth chick. Why are you acting like everything's fine!? Everything's NOT fine, Glenn!" She hit the floor with her hands and growled in frustration. It wasn't fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glenn stared down and took a deep breath. Then he sighed. "Yeah, I can't blame you on that one, kiddo. Alright, full disclosure, Nick. I already- I knew. I knew about the pronouns, and the name. I knew. Henry told me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"H- Henry... Did what?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He told me. Soon as you told him. He called me that night, let me know what you had said. We have a rule in our group, we've had the rules since Grant came out. If one of the kids comes out as anything, you tell the other dads. Especially if it's a name and pronouns thing. Cause, we agreed that since well, we were all kind of one bug cluster fuck of parents to each others kids, it was better if everyone knew who was what. So we didn't fuck it up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So you have a rule to out kids to their parents? That's-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No! Not any kids. It's just you, Terry, Grant, and the twins. Just you five. Because, here's the thing, Nick- Nickie? Whatever. Us dads? We aren't- we're new to the whole queer scene. Its not as normal for us to just fliparoo what pronouns and names we call people as it is for you guys. So, we would practice with each other. When you told Henry you liked being called Nickie, he came to us and essentially said, 'I'm gonna say Nickie to you guys as often as i fucking can do I don't end up deadnaming.' "</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glenn took Nick's hand into his and held it tight. Nick still felt like punching Henry in the fucking face for outting her to Glenn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know that I love you, Nick." Her body went rigid at that. And she looked up at him, glaring as hard as should mister with how fucking teary eyed she was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do I? Do I know that you love me, Glenn?" And his face fell. It was like she just sucked his soul out of him. Good. That should be one hell of a wake up call.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nick, of course I love you. What would ever make you think I didn't love you?" Nick but her lip, thinking over her words before she said them. She thought about a lot of things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You left. My mom died, and you left. My *mother* was dead and you went back to touring in a matter of weeks. My mother was dead, and I was ten years old. And I was home, by myself, for weeks. Glenn, I was alone for months. Sure, there’s the nanny. But that wasn't Mom or Dad. I needed my parents. I needed my dad. I needed my dad to give me a hug, promise me it'd be okay. That we were okay. And he fucking left. He walked out that door, didn't come back for months, only called every three weeks. Missed birthdays, holidays, soccer games, and whatever the fuck else. Why on gods green earth would I think that you loved me when you fucking abandoned me, Glenn? Why? Would you think I loved you if I fucked off to god knows where after being home for just a couple days? Huh? If when I found out you'd been up in drug city with your mates and getting caught by cops doing a bunch of stupid shit, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a phone call that last three minutes?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glenn stared at the ground for a long time. He didn't speak. And he pulled her back into a hug, practically dragged her across that distance to hold her again. Hold her like the whole world depended on Glenn never letting go again. Like if he let go everything would come crashing down, like Nick was the entire fucking world and he just wanted to protect her. He held her like he had when Mom died.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"God, Morgan... He's just like you." He mumbled, clutching Nick so tight she couldn't breath. She didn't care he used the wrong pronouns, she didn't care he'd barely even addressed the elephant in the room, she didn't care that her heel was digging painfully into the back of her other leg. Her dad was here. He was holding her. He was making sure she knew he loved her. Dad finally came home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glenn let out a painful sob into Nick's shoulder, he said something. Nick thinks it was an apology, but between the sniffles and the hiccups and layers of clothing, its impossible to tell. Glenn pulled her up into his lap, held her like he would when she was five or six. Her head on his shoulder, his arms around her middle as he sat horizontal across his lap. Her legs were too long to curl up like they used to, so they sat awkwardly half-stretched across the floor. It was nostalgic in a way. It felt Glenn was just realizing how many years he'd wasted. How much time with his child he had lost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Nick. I'm- I didn't realize. I'm so fucking sorry, Nick." He was still crying. Crying more than Nick had ever seen him cry. She could hear the self-hatred and the regret in his voice. She reached an arm around his neck and pulled him that much closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just don't leave again... Please, Dad." Nick doesn't remember that last time she had called him 'Dad.' But, it felt right in that moment. It hasn't felt right in a long long time.</span>
</p>
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